"You're feeding us," he continued, voice dropping to something more intimate. "Making us stronger while making theprison weaker. And now, after five years of consuming you drop by drop, we're connected in ways the original builders never imagined possible. And it's all because you came to us with an open heart. Because you let us in when no other Keeper did."
To prove his point, he pressed his palm flat against my sternum, directly over my heart. The moment he made contact, I felt it, the connection between us, golden threads that ran deeper than blood, deeper than magic. I could feel his heartbeat, steady and strong, syncing with mine. Could feel the burn of the chains around his wrists, his ankles, his throat. Could taste centuries of rage and pain and terrible, terrible hope.
"Every Keeper before you maintained distance," he said, and his voice seemed to come from inside my chest as much as from his lips. "But you opened yourself to us. Let us in. And now?—"
The Threshold convulsed around us, reality rippling like water disturbed by stones. Through our connection, I felt something crack. Not gradually, not gently, but with the sharp sound of ice breaking under spring sun.
"The Dragon's Ember seal," Kaelen breathed, and for the first time since I'd met him, he looked genuinely surprised. "It's breaking."
"No." I tried to pull away, but his hand on my chest held me in place. "If the seal breaks?—"
"I get stronger. The barrier gets weaker. The inevitable gets closer." His eyes blazed brighter, gold consuming the darker colors until they seemed to burn from within. "And you have to decide whether that terrifies or thrills you."
The terrible truth was that it was both. Terror at what might happen if the princes were freed, at the destruction they might wreak after centuries of imprisonment. But beneath that, buried but undeniable, was something else. Anticipation. Because part of me, the part that grew stronger with every golden vein thatspread beneath my skin, wanted to see what would happen when the chains finally broke.
Kaelen saw it in my face. His expression shifted from surprise to something darker, hungrier.
"You want us free." Not a question. A statement of fact. "Despite your training, despite your duty, despite everything they've told you we are… You want us free."
"I want the truth," I managed, though my voice came out breathless. "I want to know what's real and what's lies. I want?—"
"What?" He leaned closer, our faces inches apart. "Tell me what you want, Aria. Not what you should want. Not what duty demands. What do you want?"
The Threshold held its breath around us, waiting for an answer I didn't know how to give. Because what I wanted was impossible. I wanted the princes free but the world safe. I wanted justice for their imprisonment but protection for the innocent. I wanted truth but not the destruction it might bring.
I wanted him to kiss me.
The thought struck like lightning, unexpected and devastating. But once it existed, I couldn't unfeel it. Couldn't ignore the way my body leaned toward his, the way my lips parted slightly, the way every atom of my being suddenly focused on the minimal space between us.
Kaelen's pupils dilated, and I knew he'd felt it through our connection. His hand on my chest pressed harder, and I felt his want echo mine, centuries of isolation and hunger focused into a single moment of possibility.
"Dangerous thoughts, little Keeper," he murmured, but his face drifted closer. "The kind of thoughts that break more than seals."
"Everything's already breaking," I whispered.
"Yes," he agreed. "It is."
His finger rose to trace the scar on my palm, the one renewed every morning when I fed the Gate. The one that marked me as a Keeper, as a tool, as a chain. But under his touch, it felt like something else. Like possibility. Like choosing.
The moment his skin made contact with that scar, the world exploded.
The Dragon's Ember seal didn't just crack—it shattered. The sound was beyond physical, beyond metaphysical, the sound of reality itself tearing. Power flooded through the Threshold, dragon fire in its purest form, and for one terrible, beautiful moment, I felt what Kaelen truly was. Not the almost-human form he wore in this space, but the divine being beneath. Ancient. Powerful. Magnificent.
The Threshold couldn't contain it. Reality snapped back like a rubber band released, and I was thrown from that space with enough force to send me flying across the prayer chamber. My body hit the stone wall hard enough to crack it, dust raining down from the impact.
The Sanctorum was chaos.
Alarms rang from every tower. Keepers ran through corridors, their formal composure shattered. And beneath it all, the Gate's scream, high and piercing and wrong.
I pushed myself to my feet, the world spinning dangerously. Golden light blazed from my veins, no longer hidden beneath skin but burning through it, making me look like I'd swallowed stars. Brother Francis cowered in the corner, pointing at me with a shaking finger.
"Abomination," he whispered. "You've doomed us all."
Maybe I had.
I ran toward the Sanctorum, bare feet slapping against stone, robes tangling around my legs. Other Keepers pressed themselves against walls as I passed, some praying, otherssimply staring in horror at what I'd become. The golden light trailing behind me like wings made of fire.
The Sanctorum doors stood open, and the light that poured out was pure gold.
